Normally I’d contract Caldwell for a project like this, but seeing as how this was their baby sister, I didn’t see the four of them giving up any information. And getting around them would be tricky. It took me two agonizingly long days to find out any sort of intel on Madeline. And even then it was just a scrap. I got her email address from a friend who could do some cyber-stalking for me. That was all I had, so I needed to make it good.
After a few more failed attempts at trying to get her near me again, tripping over my own feet and looking like an ass, I knew I needed to try something different. I needed something that would get her near me without her being able to give me the slip. And I needed to ensure her brothers wouldn’t butt in. I’d come up with a two-hundred-word survey for her under the pretense of a free vacation. I was going to get her on the island if it killed me. Away from her family, away from prying eyes. I was going to have her all alone.
I cleared out any guests who had plans to visit, stating a hurricane had made their vacation impossible. I didn’t care if it reeked of bullshit. I wanted this that bad. People didn’t seem too upset when I refunded double their vacation expenses and then told them they could rebook any time after this week. All I needed was a week. I could make her fall for me in that amount of time. Right?
The staff was unaware of what was going on. They were informed there would be improvements to the island resort and it would be closed to the public. They would receive a paid vacation and only minimal personnel would be asked to come in.
So far it’s been a day and I haven’t been able to make any progress. Nothing about me seems to affect her in any way. Madeline is unfazed by my status and what I could potentially do for her. Almost every woman I come in contact with is always looking for an angle to get to me. I think they see me as either an opportunity for them to become rich, or as a challenge to be conquered. I’m not often seen with women for a reason. It’s been a long time since I felt any sort of inclination to be with a woman, and even longer than that since I’ve been physical with someone.
But the night I saw Madeline, all of that changed. I no longer want to avoid being photographed with a woman on my arm. I want the world to see she’s mine, that I’m not up for grabs anymore, but she keeps sidestepping me. Like tonight. I came down hoping to have dinner with her. I’d been watching her all day. She lay by the pool, and I sat hidden away like a lecher, just watching her. I could hear myself growl every time the waiter approached her, but what was I going to do? Put on a cabana shirt and take her order? I doubt she would have wanted that if her behavior tonight was any indication.
Time is running out. I’ve got to make her head over heels for me, like I am for her, by the time she’s wheels-up and headed back to New York.
I’ve got a plan in place, my option B, but it may be going too far. I push away my plate of uneaten food and remember how fast she was to try to get away from me tonight. This is an extreme measure, but one that has to be taken.
I walk away from the bar and look down at my watch. I think she’s had enough time to get to her room, so I can go up. I take the elevator to the top floor and stand in the small hallway. There are only two doors on this entire level, and I have zero guilt about putting her next to me. I look longingly at the door to the right. I walk over to it, and for a second I stand there and debate knocking. Maybe I could try again. I could try to keep my shit under control and let her see that I’m not just an asshole.
Pressing my palm to her door, I take a breath and then let it drop away.
“Stick to the plan,” I whisper to myself and then turn, going into my room.
When I get inside, I take off my white polo shirt and linen pants. I walk to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and step right in. The beat of the cold water is painful, but it’s the only thing that is going to keep me from trying to find release. Again.
I’ve rubbed myself almost raw with as many times as I’ve tried to sate my need for Madeline. I never really cared about doing it before, but since the first night I saw her, my fantasies have gone wild. But the sad thing is, my greatest fantasy about her is probably the least erotic thing I’ve ever jerked off to. I’ve got this vision of her sitting across from me in a coffee shop while I just hold her hand. The sight of her smiling at me gets me every time. Her goddamn smile. That’s all I want. And it’s all it takes to send me over the edge.
Thinking about it now has my cock throbbing under the ice-cold stream, and I grab the soap, giving in to the inevitable. I close my eyes and there she is. She’s wearing a sweater that has fabric bunched up around her neck, and she’s holding a mug of hot cocoa. I reach out and place my hand on the table, palm up, and she puts hers in mine. She looks down at where our fingers are joined, and then for just a second I think she won’t look up at me. But she finally does, and when her beautiful brown eyes find mine, I’m lost in the fantasy.